


Rubber Bands

by rockethop



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Restraints, Smut, Spanking, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockethop/pseuds/rockethop
Summary: They’re a lot like a rubber band, Leslie reckons. They’re two ends of a rubber band being pulled taut, the tension increasing between them until… Uh oh.Leslie and Ben's first time sleeping together. Takes place immediately after 3x14, "Road Trip".
Relationships: Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Rubber Bands

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place right after that first kiss in 3x14, "Road Trip".

They’re a lot like a rubber band, Leslie reckons. They’re two ends of a rubber band being pulled taut, the tension increasing between them until…

_Uh oh._

Admittedly, maybe, she shouldn’t have kissed her boss.

That wasn’t exactly her fault. She’d resigned herself to remaining professional and she’d had every intention of dropping off those receipts at Chris’s office and leaving without anything happening. It was Ben that initiated that first kiss. But perhaps she could’ve been a bit more diligent in preventing what followed.

She didn’t _have_ to invite Ben back to her house. She didn’t _have_ to kick off her shoes at the door and weave him through the stacks upon stacks of magazines and papers and other accumulated items. She didn’t _have_ to lead him up to her bedroom.

Yet here they were, tongue-tied and frenzied hands after having been stretched too far.

Leslie’s hands trail down his chest from his hair, grabbing at his dick through his pants when he casts her hand aside. She wrenches herself away from his grasp.

“Let me make this perfectly clear,” she growls. “I don’t want to _make love_. I want you to fuck me. I want Mean Ben. Going-to-defund-my-parks-department Ben. Got it?”

There’s a shift. An understanding. He swallows.

“Noted. But if you need to call a time out…”

“Okay. Sure. Fine. Whatever.” Leslie sputters and pulls him back to her lips.

Her fumbling hands work to undo the buttons of his shirt, the top of his chest exposed when he grunts and pushes her into a sitting position on the bed.

“No,” Ben announces, his voice low. He takes a step back and folds his arms across his chest. “We’re doing this my way. Undress.”

Leslie shivers as the demand registers in her mind and she strips away her blazer, tossing it to the ground followed by her top and her pants. Her pale skin is a stark contrast to the red lace hugging her breasts and hips. She leans back on her forearms, coyly crossing her legs at the ankles.

“Miss Leslie Knope is supposedly the embodiment of feminism and she parades around City Hall wearing underwear fit for a whore.” Ben takes ahold of her ankles and yanks her to the edge of the bed so that their hips are pressed together. “Seems a bit incongruous.”

She tosses her hair. “They’re not mutually exclusive. I can be a champion of equality and a slut.”

“Take your panties off before I do.”

She smirks and remains motionless save for the slight graze of her pelvis against his. “No.”

He hooks two fingers between her skin and the waistband, tugging the fabric past her knees and past each foot. He bunches the underwear in his fist and shoves it deep into the front pocket of his slacks before wiping his hand against his side.

“You’re soaking.”

“Need a memento?” She counters, dancing around his statement.

He huffs, “Yeah, you’re not getting those back.”

_Fuck._

An embarrassing pang of desire makes itself known to Leslie between her legs. She winds Ben’s tie twice around her hand, anchoring him into an open-mouthed kiss. He breaks from her, eyes dark and determined.

“You’re going to ask me to touch you.”

She grits her teeth. “No, I won’t.”

Ben’s hand darts into her hair, finds a fistful of blonde strands, and jerks Leslie down to the mattress. “It’s okay, I’ll allow it.”

He’s smug above her, hand resting idly on her belly. _Why is this persona so easy for him?_ Leslie clenches her jaw and rediscovers her nerve because no, absolutely not. She refuses to ask him to touch her. She just wished she felt as disciplined as he looks right now.

_Damn it, Wyatt. Move your fucking hand._

Leslie wriggles in vain. Ben’s hand isn’t going anywhere unless she asks it to.

“Ben,” comes her voice despite her efforts to suppress it. “Please.”

An eyebrow arches. “Yes?”

_He’s in a position of power and he chooses to be absolutely insufferable. Splendid._

“Please touch me. Touch my pussy.” Her voice sounds desperate even to her own ears.

A self-satisfied smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “Good girl.”

His hand finally descends, parting to brush against her folds and drawing up to circle her clit with his middle finger before repeating the rhythm. A small gasp escapes her before her face sets in frustration.

“Hurry up,” Leslie demands.

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart,” Ben replies, devoid of affection and full of arrogance. “I can do whatever I want. I can go as slow as I’d like. I can even stop if I want to.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she threatens then squirms against his stalled hand. “Is this what gets you off? Does being an ass get your cock hard?”

Ben swiftly pushes three fingers within her, causing Leslie to hiss before the discomfort ebbs into pleasure.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he says simply. “Or I’ll find other uses for it.”

He removes a finger from her and sets a new pace. Leslie isn’t certain, but there’s a chance that the moaning that’s being muffled by the hammering of her heart is her own.

Any doubt she had is erased the moment Ben’s lips close around her clit. His tongue circles and flicks before dipping down and swiping over her entrance. Leslie’s hand pushes into Ben’s hair, tangling, twisting, and tugging, coaxing him towards spots where she desires his ministrations.

Ben shoots up from between her legs, licks his lips, and pushes two wet fingers into Leslie’s mouth before pulling at the knot in his tie. Her eyes widen when he grabs both of her wrists in one of his palms, twisting the tie around her dainty bones and tying it into a daisy chain above her head, the tail hanging just out of reach.

Ben squeezes the end of his belt, frees it from the buckle, and pushes his pants down to his knees. He looks at Leslie, studying her face and taking in her predicament before slipping his hand under the waistband of his briefs and squeezing his cock.

“Roll over,” Ben commands, stiffening at the sight of Leslie’s tongue poking at the inside of her cheek.

She hesitates then complies, burying her face between her restrained arms and pushing her rear into the air. Ben’s unoccupied hand juts out to slap the exposed skin.

“Put your ass down,” Ben growls.

Her hips lower and he unclasps her bra. He nudges her back onto her back then pushes the bra up to the knot between her hands, leans down, and captures her lips between his before positioning himself between her legs.

“I’m not using a condom,” he mutters. It’s not a request for permission, but he pauses and searches her eyes for any indication of uneasiness or calling a time out.

“That’s fine,” she says, a self-satisfied smirk forming at her lips. “I’m not coming, anyway.”

His mouth twitches and he thrusts into her, denying her the luxury of easing himself into her and grins salaciously at her yelp of surprise.

Ben grinds his teeth. “That’s not what your cunt is saying, babe.”

He thrusts again, their bodies joining together with a smack as he reams into her, grunting and sighing and headboard rattling against the wall. Leslie’s trying, truly trying, to steady her breathing and quell the fire between her thighs but she’s building, building, building -

He grabs the end of his tie’s chain and snatches it, freeing Leslie’s hands and tossing her bra aside.

“Touch yourself.” Ben orders.

She groans and musters up what remains of her self control to shake her head no. “No.”

“If you don’t touch yourself, I swear to fuck, Leslie, I’m pulling out.”

She shouldn’t have expected it to be an empty threat, but the sudden cease in friction between her legs leaves her aching.

“NO!” She screams.

Ben’s hunched over, tearing through her nightstand drawer, the contents flying everywhere and falling to the floor with a thud.

She’s furious. Irate, actually. She was _so close._

Leslie shrieks, “What are you doing!? What the hell are you doing, Ben!? If you think that you can just-”

A mechanical buzz springs to life beside her in the dark.

“Oh my gooooddddddd,” She sighs when Ben presses the vibrator to her clit and enters her again.

He grabs her jaw and directs her to look at him, fingers sinking deeper into her skin. “You’re such a fucking _brat,_ Leslie. You tell me to fuck you and undermine my every demand. You wear lacy red underwear to work and walk around like you’re not a little slut. I bet you think of me when you fuck yourself with your vibrator, huh? Do you think of my cock in your pussy when you finger yourself? You think about me bending you over the desk in my office, burying my face in your ass as I eat you out. Yeah?”

“Yes, yes,” she cries.

She’s nearly there, almost over the threshold when Ben presses the vibrator harder against her clit, the figurative elastic band stretching, stretching, stretching -

_Snap._

He’s right behind her, body convulsing as he floods within her and collapses to her side. Leslie takes the vibrator from his hand and switches it off, setting it upon the nightstand.

“That was,” she pants.

“Holy fuck.” Ben finishes.

“How did you know I had a vibrator?” Leslie asks once she’s regained more control over her breathing.

“You’re a woman above the age of twenty.”

She laughs. “Yeah, okay.”

Ben’s face softens. “Time out,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

He pulls her into his arms, skin to skin, face to face. “I want it to be very clear that I like you too much to be mean to you. Unless you ask me to, of course.”

_Uh oh, indeed._


End file.
